Cool Tiles
by Derrian
Summary: Duo takes care of his friends in his own way. It's the thought that counts, right?
1. Chapter 1

Cool Tiles  
  
By: Derrian Star  
  
Shake, shake, flip . . . Shake, shake, flip . . . Yes, his creation was coming along nicely. Duo smiled to himself looking down into the pan he held off the stove, where one large, fluffy pancake was slowly making its way to a nice golden colour. He flicked his wrist one last nice. Sending the flapjack several feet in to the air again with a flip. It was easily caught, and the pan was replaced on the burner.  
  
The counter next to the braided boy had a white plate full of the perfectly round bakeries. After all feeding a house of five took a bit of time and a whole lot of pancake mix. While waiting for it to get done he busied himself cleaning up the kitchen, humming a little tune as he went.  
  
Mind distracted he never noticed the other come into the room, slowly dragging his loafer covered feet. Making his way toward the much-needed pot of freshly brewed coffee. Disaster stuck when the American turned back to his cooking and took the mug right out of the new comers hand. It shattered upon impact with the tiled floor.  
  
"Holy shit!" Duo put one hand to his breast, trying to contain his heart from flying right out of his chest. "You can't sneak up on a guy like that Quat!"  
  
A mumbled. "Sorry."  
  
Duo took a washcloth and knelt to clean up the glass. Luckily it had been empty still. Duo quickly shooed him to the table, stating that he could handle it. The blonde slowly found another cup and claimed his black liquid. Who needed creamer anyway? The broken glass was put carefully in the wastebasket, a quick sweep and all was better. All in perfect time to gather the last pancake from the stove and add it to the pile.  
  
Plates, forks, butter, and syrup were all laid out before the chef sat to be the first to enjoy his masterpiece. Hell if he was going to wait for the rest to get out of bed! These were best eaten when fresh.  
  
He shoveled one large helping into his mouth before finally looked up at his breakfast partner. "Man Quat, you look like shit!" The words were formed without much consideration for the food that rolled around with them. But they were blankly true looking at the Arabian. He was paler then normal, and a flush speckled his cheeks. Golden locks appeared to have been washed then slept on, forcing them in more directions then one. Darkly circled eyes in a half lidded look, as his was inspected by the one across from him  
  
But besides from all that the smaller boy still forced a smile on his lips. "I didn't sleep very well I guess."  
  
"And you still going to work?!" This time Duo swallowed the impossibly large amount of food in his mouth before speaking. He reached over the table to feel Quatre's forehead, finding it uncomfortably warm.  
  
"I got to Duo." A yawn. "There's so much to get done." The coffee in hand remained untouched, along with the food in front of him. Habit making him grab them, but the feeling of eating was never really there.  
  
"You be of no use if you're held up in the bathroom Q."  
  
The blond looked at his watch, puzzling over the fact that there was a 9 on top instead of the normal 12. He must have put it on upside down. "I'll be fine once I get moving." He made to leave and finish preparing for another hectic day at Winner Enterprise.  
  
"Okay buddy." Duo grabbed the neglected mug from his friend; coffee probably wasn't a good idea if your not feeling well anyway, and his own now emptied plate taking them to the dishwasher. When he turned back around he found Quatre hadn't made it very far. He was instead sprawled on the floor just a few feet from his chair. Cheek pressed against the cool tiles, eyes closed, sleeping.  
  
His braid wiggled back and forth as he shook his head. It wasn't his fault if the owner of a trillion dollar company missed one day of signing papers. Didn't he pay people to do that for him anyway?  
  
****  
  
An hour later, Trowa wandered down the stairs, looking refreshed and ready for another day. He sent a small greeting as Duo waved at him from his spot on the sofa, watching morning cartoons, and laughing his head off. Between sporadic bursts he mentioned something about pancakes being in the frig. Duo always made the best pancakes, so the acrobat followed his talkative stomach into the kitchen. Only to back track a few seconds later.  
  
"Um Duo?"  
  
Violet eyes never left the screen, "Huh?"  
  
"Why is Quatre sleeping on the kitchen floor, isn't he suppose to be at work?"  
  
"Yeah, but he's sick."  
  
"And the floors going to make him better?"  
  
"He has a fever."  
  
"Duo!!"  
  
"What?!" A commercial interrupted his shows so the braided boy turned around in the couch to face Trowa. "I gave him a blanket."  
  
The other smacked the heel of his hand against his forehead. This was one of those times when you just couldn't help wondering if that braid was just a bit too tight.  
  
"Tro you've had chicken pocks already right?"  
  
Now he had to think for a second. But how could one forget those little red bumps that covered you from head to toe and itched like hell. "Yeah, why?"  
  
The show was back on; Duo quickly pointed back to the kitchen and whirled around to his beloved TV. Seeing that the conversation was at an end Trowa went back to the sleeping blond, kneeling down next to him.  
  
"Chicken pocks." It was stated with a small laugh. Sure enough those little red marks practically covered the visible face of the Arabian. "Well I sure hope everyone else has had them already." He gathered the boy, blanket and all, in his arms. Determined to get him off that floor and into a decent bed. Though the ceramic squares had served a purpose and cooled the burning skin.  
  
"I'm going to take him to bed then call the office to tell them he's not coming in." He stated going back through the living room on his way to the stairs. The bedrooms were located on the second floor of the building.  
  
"All taken care of dude." The TV was set on mute. "I called his sister right after he passed out on the floor. She said they would take care of everything for a week and said that we're to forcefully restrain him if he so much as touches any paperwork during that time."  
  
"Thanks Duo." Trowa had to smile as he climbed the flight of stairs to the next level, he knew that boy was smarter then he acted most of the time. Playtime at the appropriate times only. 


	2. Chapter 2

Cool Tiles  
  
By: Derrian Star  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"Stop it."  
  
A red dotted hand stopped a fraction of an inch above its intended destination; an inch that seemed to be on a non-stop trek across every part of his body. Quatre looked over to the door where Duo was balancing several items in his hands. Medicine, a thermometer, water, and oven mitts???  
  
"You'll only make it worse trust me." The braided pilot's armload was set in a heap on the side table only keeping the small glass, mercury filled stick. This he promptly stuck in the blonde's mouth, aiming under his tongue. He took a seat in a nearby chair to wait the intended five minutes, shaking his head lightly. "How could you have never gotten chick poxes dude? Especially with 29 sisters. You couldn't have been 'that' sheltered."  
  
Making a move to speak Quatre was only cut off with the raise of a war worn hand. "I was eight when I got them, then every kid with in a mile radius followed suit. Maybe you did get it, but then is it possible to get them twice?!" That thought in mind the brunette jumped his chair back a couple of feet, one eyebrow arcing in question. He had 'really' hated the chicken poxes!  
  
Waiting a moment more, then figuring enough time had passed, the bed ridden Arabian took the thermometer out of his mouth and rotated in the light next to him. He groaned, not pleased with the results seen. He was going to get so far behind because of this! After setting the medical instrument back in the pile of other stuff Duo brought in Quatre looked over the said young man. If he didn't feel like the effort would cause him to go into another itching fit, he would have laughed. Not much scared Duo after all, but it was there, the young business man could clearly see it. His fellow Gundam pilot was afraid of catching the chicken poxes!  
  
"Duo, I've never had the chicken poxes . . ."  
  
The chair was pulled closer after a second, after the words sunk in. "But you 'had' to have had the chicken poxes Quat. 'Everyone' gets the chicken poxes!"  
  
The strategist strived to satisfy another wave of itches by viciously scratching at his arm, his neatly trimmed nails leaving red tracks up and down.  
  
"Quatre!"  
  
"But it itches!" The blond snapped back uncharacteristically. His hands were taken hold of and pulled away, ending the small measure of peace he had gained. His whole body practically throbbed with the irritation now.  
  
Hearing the uproar down the hall Trowa came to see what the commotion was all about. He was greeted by the site of Duo practically up top of Quatre, pinning the ill boy to the bed as he secured large white oven mitts on the blonde's hands. Wrapping them in duct tape so they couldn't be taken off easily.  
  
The normally pale boy was beginning to look a bit flush having one of the braided boy's knees on his chest holding him down, no doubt hindering his ability to breath. But he struggled none the less. The tingle on his skin increasing the longer the battle went on.  
  
The stoic pilot leaned casually on the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. As much as he wanted to know what was going on, there was a small part of him that found this 'very' entertaining.  
  
"Duo! Stop! This isn't fair . . . Duo!!"  
  
Braid flopping over his shoulder Duo plastered a satanic grin on his face, a few more pieces of tape and done! "It's for your own good dude." He chuckled removing his well place knee and settling 'on' the bed instead of 'on' Quatre. "Sister Helen did this to me when I had the chicken poxes. Works well, let me tell ya. I thought I was going to go mental before the week was done."  
  
Aquamarine eyes shifted frantically, looking for a way out of his predicament. They landed on Trowa who was sporting a newly acquired lopsided smile. "Trowa please you have to help me! Tell him he's insane!" He waved his covered hand around wildly. Looking much like a frantic seal.  
  
Following the blondes eyes Duo also looked over to the doorway, rubbing a hand along the back of his brown head sheepishly, yet the grin never left his face. "T-Tro, how long have you been there?" Then under his breath. "Not long I hope . . ."  
  
Ignoring the question the quiet pilot walked over to the bed side and gently took Quatre's chin in his finger tips, turning his head back and forth, causing a faint pink to colour the other boy's cheeks as he was studied in close proximity. Accenting the small red dots that littered his skin.  
  
"You should be resting." Trowa finally said, releasing the boy's pale face, carefully noting the unnatural warmth that radiated from it. He reached over to retrieve the bottle of medicine off the night stand, opened it, and helped the spotted boy take three small, white pills, seeing that it might have been difficult otherwise with his hands covered as they were.  
  
Quatre pursed his thin lips, feeling much like a child who couldn't take care of himself. "You all have had chicken pokes already?" He decided to hold back several annoyed comments racing through his brain and push for his freedom just a bit more.  
  
Trowa nodded, going to close the drapes to the single large window. Duo bounced slightly on the foot of the bed, promptly refusing to look at the banged young man. "It's a normal childhood disease and highly contagious, so break outs spread quickly. It's extremely rare to get it as an adult."  
  
"I don't think any one of my sisters ever had it either." Quatre yawned, politely covering his mouth with a mitten.  
  
"Strange." Trowa gave a shrug and grabbed the tail end of Duo's braid, pulling him towards the open door, paying no heed to the cries of pain he gained. He switched off the lights and pulled the door closed behind them. The last glimpse he saw was the blond settling down with another yawn. Bringing his oven mitt covered hands up to his face, itches slowly being forgot.  
  
"Oven Mitts Duo?"  
  
Still being painfully dragged by his braid into the living room, Duo gave a toothy grin and laughed deep in his throat. "Pretty cool huh? Bet ya never would have thought of that?"  
  
Trowa shook his head, that hadn't been what he was referring to, and Duo knew it. 


	3. Chapter 3

Cool Tiles

By: Derrian Star

Chapter 3

"Catherine made me sleep with the lions for a week." Trowa recalled after a moment of reallocation. It had taken him just about that same amount of time to wash of the smell of cat too. No matter how many times they all got hosed down as one big happy family.

"We lived together in our trailer at the time. She threatened to let her aim slip if she caught them from me."

Wufei blinked; neither of the Trowa or his sister could have been more then nine at the time. "They let her play with knives?" After a day away from the house both he and Heero were being brought up to speed on the events that they had missed when out on when taking a run to the next town on business. Some how it had turned into a story time session.

"It makes it a bit hard to practice when the knives don't stick to their mark. None of her precautions mattered though. A couple weeks after I recovered she turned up with red spots all over. Apparently animals can't 'get' the chicken poxes, but they 'can' carry the virus." Slender shoulders shrugged in a nonchalant manner.

Crossing his arms over his chest the Chinese smirked slightly. Imagining either Trowa with that crazy head of hair or his sister, bright red locks to begin with, covered in little red spots could crack even the coldest exterior.

"I mediated for a week and a half."

Making his way out of the kitchen, and catching only the last half of the conversation, Duo looked at the three in the living room and snorted. "Now tell us something we don't already know 'Fei"

"Damn it Maxwell! I was forced into the meditation by the elders of my clan when they found out I had contracted the chicken poxes. On a 'rock'. In the middle of the 'lake' that was on the edge of our village." A few more 'choice' words were later muttered carefully under his breath. None of them being particularly nice.

The constant tap tap tap of Heero on his laptop paused for the briefest amount of time after Wufei finished his quick blurt of story.

"Damn dude that sucks! And I thought the oven mitts were bad!"

"I would think that there are a few worse things than 'duct taping oven mitts' on to someone hands in this day and age."

"Yeah yeah . . . Well at the time it sure as hell didn't seem like it." The braided boy stuck a closed fist on his jutted hip. "Now I'll get out of your hair if anyone can tell me if we have any baking soda?"

"Above the oven in the right cabinet." Trowa said a bit warily. Duo had been searching around in that kitchen for almost an hour. And he was pretty sure the other was not in there cooking dinner for later.

"Cool thanks!" The brunette once again disappeared into the other room. Only to reemerge after a quick minute, box in hand, and heading up the stairs.

A soft grunt had Trowa and Wufei looking over to Heero.

"What?"

"Did you know that some cultures bath in oatmeal to rid themselves of the itch that accompanies chicken poxes."

"That is almost repulsive." The black haired pilot stated. Leaning over a bit so he could take a look at the computer screen and the information there. "Forget that . . . vinegar is 'much' worse."

Now Trowa join in the little circle. "People actually bathed in Vinegar?"

"And tomato juice, and mud, and ice cube filled cold water." Heero listed monotone.

"Do you think any of that actually worked?"

Wufei snorted. "Maybe once. And now every little kid with red spots will smell worse then Trowa after a week of sleeping with the lions."

Green eyes narrowed at the jest for a moment, but just a moment before he looked back at the screen. "Where did you find that Heero?"

"The file history. Duo must have used my laptop at some point to look it up."

There were times when even the famous Gundam pilots got scared. 'Now' was one of those times. Both Trowa and Wufei leaned forward so quickly that the computer controller was almost dumped out of his chair. Three heads stared at the screen side by side, so close together that their ears touched. "Quick what else did he look up!?" Two voices frantically questioned. Two sets of hands tightly gripping the back of the arm chair.

"Um, here is one of the more strange ones . . . Members of the Elvis fan club were reported treating their own children with an old family remedy that Elvis's mother often recommended. A thorough coating . . . of . . . baking soda?!"

"DUO!!!" The three jumped as the angered cry echoed painfully loud throughout the large house. It was soon followed by a thump, squeak and crash.

The three in the living room made quick work to reach the top of the stairs and down the short ways to the left where the first bedroom door was located. It wasn't open when they got there, but the unpleasant noises from behind it cause Wufei to quickly grab the knob and barge in.

The scene they stumbled in upon could have very well come out of a child's Christmas story book. Beautiful white fluff covered 'pretty' much everything in the small room. Bed, desk, TV . . . Giving a soft feeling that one could almost fall into with a happy sigh of contentment. Though the next turn of the page would soon give any viewer a bit of a shock.

On the floor at the foot of the empty bed a pajama clad snowman was currently trying his hardest to strangle a second snowman who was pinned beneath the first. ". . . Dye it red and feed it to the vultures!" The victim was being severely shaken with each and every word spoken by the irate, once blond boy. Only the end of the sentence was caught but by the way Duo was desperately pleading for his braid's life they all knew who the intended meal was to be.

Giving the body one final vicious push into the floor boards, Quatre made a lunge for the drawer of the nearby desk. Going for anything sharp that he could get his hands on and make good on his threat. No illness was going to keep him away from his just revenge.

"No! Quat geezes!!" Duo squeaked, throwing himself at the fluff covered boy, managing to catch him around the waist just in time and set them both into a large pile white. Upsetting the material into a powdery cloud that hid most of the room.

The other three just sat near the door, watching, after seeing the mess, they figure Duo 'defiantly' deserved what might be coming to him.

"We did 'not' have this much baking soda in the house." Heero commented dryly, his blue gaze narrowing as he calculated the number of boxes it must have taken to fill up a room that size.

Waving away the white dust as it drifted in to his face Trowa agreed.

"Maxwell made a trip out early today." The Chinese pilot pointed out. Only planning to interfere if limbs became risked. The braided young man had managed the upper hand and was now sitting on Quatre's chest, using his knees to keep the flailing arms pinned while his hands fought for control over the yellow handled scissors.

"Let's think reasonably here Q! You wouldn't stop itching! Baking soda helps with the itch! IT WAS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!!!" A too close for comfort snip made Duo jump back, allowing Quatre room to move and find an advantage. Only he took a lungful of the particle filled air a bit too quickly, and sank to his knees in a fit of sneezes.

His crab scramble away from the insane was brought to an end by a pair of legs and a heavy hand of his shoulder. Looking up and over his shoulder the self made doctor gave his best 'I'm so busted' grin seeing Heero there.

Trowa calmly scooped up the scissors from where they were dropped to the ground in front of Quatre as he continued in his episode. Wufei was soon helping the sick boy off his knees and out of the cloud filled white room.

"He's not itching anymore is he?!" Duo attempted to plead his case to the Japanese pilot, as he was hauled to his feet by an unbreakable hold on arm. They to left, closing the door behind them. Making sure that the rest of the house would not become victim to the baking soda hurricane.

"Unless I am mistaken, they do make a simple non-itch cream for that Duo."

White powder flew in two directions as the braided boy threw up his hands. "Ha! And give into those medical mumbo jumbos and their miracle drugs! I'd rather cut off my own braid! Evil I tell you! EVIL!"


End file.
